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She entered a private hospital room.
On the hospital bed lay an old woman with white hair, her nose and mouth covered with an oxygen mask.
The novelist sat down beside the bed.
The old lady on the bed opened her eyes to look at her, her gaze filled with affection but no words were spoken, probably too weak to speak.
This old woman suffered from chronic obstructive pulmonary disease and had been seriously ill and hospitalized some time ago.
The current situation was also not optimistic.
"Mother, I've come to see you," the novelist addressed the old woman in the bed with honorifics.
She sat by the bed for a while, then suddenly pulled a piece of paper from her bosom.
